onsdag 14 december 2011

Fourteen.

“This is it, guys. We're entering Winterspace.”

Darren, Krystof and Babs stared out of the cockpit at what lay ahead. The blackness of space glittered with little crystalline specks, illuminated by some distant star. Their ship was slowly floating into a swirling kaleidoscope of cosmic dust, and it was a breathtaking sight – but also a frightening sight.

“So this what they call cosmic snow?” Darren asked Babs, who nodded. Krystof looked out at it, squinting, and tried to recall what he had learned about it in his studies of chemistry.

“It's silicon.” he said finally. “Fragments of silicon swirling around in space. Nobody really knows where it comes from, but it glitters like snow – that's why they dubbed this sector Winterspace.”

“I don't know if this looks like snow,” Darren remarked. “It's more like... I don't know. I can't describe it. It's beautiful.”

They nodded in unison as the ship kept gliding through the cloud of multicolored confetti, swirling and snaking around the ship in long streams. For a long time they were silent, just staring out at the patterns that emerged and disappeared before their eyes. Darren thought idly, that the fact that it was so lethal only made it prettier: Most of the mineral fragments were razor sharp. To leave the ship in Winterspace, even for a short space-walk, would almost certainly be suicide.

Suddenly, the silence was broken by a high-pitched beep. Babs flinched, patting herself down to find her communicator, before she realized that wasn't it. Darren, on the other hand, looked at the control panel.

“There's a ship approaching. I... don't recognize this signature.”

Krystof immediately slammed down a button, hard, and leaned over towards the microphone. “This is Krystof Haag on board the Gilmore. Please identify yourselves.”

He let go of the button. A garbled noise emerged from their speakers, a horrible droning sound like metal being dragged through gravel, as if someone was sharpening a sword on a driveway. There was no image accompanying it, the screen just displayed a blur. Both Krystof and Darren turned to Babs, who had turned very pale.

“Snowmen.”

3 kommentarer:

Nallenon sa...

Hahaha, great references.

Ole Sebastian sa...

Dangerous snowmen they are.. ^^

Yeonni sa...

if "snow" is razor sharp multicolored sprinkles, then "snowmen" would, by logic, be balls of razor sharp multicolored sprinkles, so we're gonna be attacked by hellraiser meets discoball :D